


Faithfully

by jayilyse



Series: Fortunate [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Mentions of kids, Mentions of trolls, Original Character(s), Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-12
Updated: 2012-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-11 23:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayilyse/pseuds/jayilyse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When we won the game and won the new universe, we made a hive – house – together. It is this hive, to be precise. We built it with our own two hands. We decorated it, too. We went on dates and did silly things like rolling in the grass and jumping in leaves. We had snow ball fights and made snowmen together. We would make gardens and pluck the weeds. We ran around in huge gales and danced in the rain – we did it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faithfully

**Author's Note:**

> This is Kanaya's point of view.

I hear him saying “father” outside the door.

It was an inside joke of ours. She said the word in front of him one day when he was young, and he started calling me it almost instantly. She would just look at me and laugh every time he did – I would laugh too. I did not care what he called me, so long as he was happy.

“Father!” he says with a bit of a whine in his voice as he pushes the door open and steps inside.

I am sitting in my hobby block, in a jade green chair with golden trim at my desk. The desk has tons of my designs on it and the room is filled to the brim with books in shelves that reach the ceiling. The shelves have a shine to them that they would only have when one polishes it – and rightfully so, as I polish them whenever I can. The humidity forms a tolerable stuffiness in the warm air – the window is open, and the shutters are as well. The clouds and the sun form a pretty scene – I wish I could go outside with him and roll in the grass. However, I do not have time right now. I have designs to work on, and a mouth to –

“Father?”

…feed.

I did not see him change from his position beside to the door. But now he is next to me, tugging on my dress with his tiny hands.

Today is his wriggling day – it may be more accurate to use human terms, as he was born as humans are. So, today is his birthday. Three and half sweeps – nine years – have gone by so quickly. The game ended when we were all six and a half sweeps. Ten years after we collected our prize, a combined universe for humans and trolls alike, we all reached the age where we wanted to mate to actually create a grub or child. It is dependent upon who is inseminated.

I look down at him. I wonder what he wants – I already gave him his birthday presents, and tons of hugs and kisses which he, of course, rubbed off right away with a scream of “Father, I am too old for this!” It was challenging to not chuckle as he ran away. I am not too work-orientated, but the fact is I have a deadline coming up. It is his birthday, though. The deadline can wait for a moment.

“Yes, Sero?”

I turn to him, moving my chair along with me, and notice he is looking at me with a worried look in his eyes. He is tugging on my clothes as if he was nervous about something. This is unlike him – he is usually, as they say, bouncing ‘off the walls’. His one and only swirled horn on the side of his head attracts my attention. It has grown since he was born – he was not born with one. His messy, black hair and purple shirt contrast with his pale grey skin – it is the palest grey I have ever seen. His light denim pants give his skin a run for its money, though. I have always noticed that he has her face. His eyes are her eyes, her nose, her facial structure – everything is hers. His blood is the same color as hers, as well. He looks up at me shyly. This is a very rare occurrence for Sero. He is blunt, if he is not being sarcastic. But here he is, looking up at me with concern. Clearing his throat, he finally speaks up.

“Can I ask you something?”

I give him a quizzical look. I nod, telling him to go on.

“Can I ask about mother now?”

I freeze. I know my face betrays me and shows my shock. He has never asked me about her before. I had always wondered why, but I was not prepared to talk about her. Therefore, I never brought the subject up. The house is filled with pictures of Sero, and some of him and me, but there is no picture of her around the house. However, there are few pictures of her, and there is only one picture left of all three of us together. I keep them in a safe place – the vault in this room. They are my prized possessions, and I will not let anything happen to them.

Sero stops tugging, and lets his hand fall to his side. He looks down at his feet and from what I can see on his face, he is steeling himself for my answer. He opens his mouth to talk.

“Uncle Dave said that I can ask about her when I am a big boy. I am a big boy now. I want to know about mother.”

I am stock still for another moment before it hits me. Sero is growing up. He was bound to ask eventually, and he does deserve to know about her. Once I figure out how to move again, I pat my lap – my typical sign that he should come and sit on it for a story. His grin is huge because he got his way. He climbs onto me hurriedly; I am sure he thought I would say no. When he settles himself into a position, I give him a smile.

“What would you like to know first?”

Sero shifts himself a bit, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. I am sure Dave told him his mother’s name at the very least.

“If you do not mind, I would like to hear about when you first met mother.”

I think about it for a moment. I have not explained SBURB to him. Sero is too young to know about all the bloodshed and hardships. I will have to find a way to explain it simply.

“I was not much older than you when we met. However, your mother and I were playing a game together long before we did.”

He raises an eyebrow, but continues to listen. I tell him all about how she made a walk through for the game while she was playing it, and how I used it to continue playing my game. I explain how I thought she was some amazing troll out there somewhere when John, or Mr. Egbert to Sero, answered her instant messaging account for her. At that point I thought of her as unintelligent, and that she could not be the person who wrote that walk through. I was proven wrong very shortly, on both accounts of misconception. As we conversed, I grew attached to her before meeting her in person.

“Did you know your mother taught me sarcasm?” I say to Sero, trying to excite him a bit. He smirks, and looks at me directly in the eye.

“No, I could not even imagine that possibility.” He says dryly.

“You should watch what you say to me, Sero. If you do not, I might have to tickle you.”

The smirk on his face turns into a smile, and then a laugh. I know he hates being tickled – this reaction is new. A lot of things about him are new today, but some are refreshing. The shine he has in his eyes right now only comes out when he is fascinated with something.

“You would not do that right now.”

“Are you sure about that?”

I raise my hands and wiggle my fingers in a threatening way – as soon as Sero realizes I am serious, he raises his hands and flails his arms around to block me. I put my hands down, but he has shut his eyes so he cannot tell. When he finally does open them, he gives a sideways glance and coughs into his hand.

“Father, go on with the story.”

Oh, yes. Right.

I go on to tell Sero about some of the things that happened after his mother and I met. On one occasion, we were in the library discussing a book that Karkat had “given” to her. Truly, it was a trashy book. She loved it though. She inquired about the relationships and how the quadrants worked. At one point I made a pun, and she smiled – that was the first time I had ever seen her smile. It was gorgeous to me. Her personality had put me on a precarious cliff called ‘infatuation’, and she had found a way to push me down into the abyss that is being flushed. I wanted to be the one to make her smile all day, every day. It was difficult for me to do so, because I did not know what to say to do that. It would always be random. Then, one day, I made a slip – this one was called a “Freudian” slip – that made her laugh so hard she doubled over. I know why she was laughing now; however, that is beside the point. The important thing is that I found out that she was flushed for me too that day.

When we won the game and won the new universe, we made a hive – house – together. It is this hive, to be precise. We built it with our own two hands. We decorated it, too. We went on dates and did silly things like rolling in the grass and jumping in leaves. We had snow ball fights and made snowmen together. We would make gardens and pluck the weeds. We ran around in huge gales and danced in the rain – we did it all. She had told me about the concept of marriage before when we were in the game. When I remembered that, I knew what I had to do – get a ring. I knew that she would want something simple so she could keep it on. I got her a simple silver ring with an engraving on it. It said “you are my light”. I knelt down on one knee as tradition states, and proposed. Needless to say, she loved it. Our wedding was a year later, and it was small affair. We did not want to make a big thing out of it. A sweep later, we decided to have Sero.

I beam at Sero once I am finished simplifying and telling the story. Sero smiles back, most likely satisfied with this answer. He prepares to ask his next question.

“What kind of person was mother?”

I hesitate to answer for a while. There were many facets to her. I want him to know that his mother was a person, not perfection. This means having to explain some of her bad traits too. I talk with Sero about how she was great at being sarcastic. However, sometimes she used sarcasm at the wrong time – she did not understand that if you had not known her for a while, her sarcasm would go over others’ heads and into the realm of sincerity. She held in a lot of her emotions, and this would lead to outbursts after a very long fuse finally burnt out. She loved, though. She loved Sero and me with everything she had. She loved Dave, she loved John and Jade. That is why she had to do it. She had to, for the greater good. I can feel myself choking up – my protein chute filling with mucus and tears are starting to form. Sero seems to notice. I am sure that is why he is wary when he tries to speak again.

“What…what happened to mother?”

I try to fix myself to tell him. He deserves to know. I clear my protein chute before I start. I am able to hear the sob coming in my voice. I need to get this out before I start to do exactly that.

“Sero, what if I told you that your mother saved us all?”

His face turns from caution, to surprise, to excited. He loves super heroes, after all. He gazes at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue. I smile, albeit it is a sad one. He does not seem to notice the difference.

“In the game I told you about earlier, anyone who turned into what we call a ‘God Tier’ had special powers. I did not go God Tier; I had strength enough to hold my own. Your mother, uncle, Mr. Egbert, and Ms. Harley all were God Tiers.”

Sero seems amazed. I can tell he wants to know what the powers were, and if he can get some. I shoosh pap him before he can start.

“You do not want these powers, Sero. Terrible things have to happen to get them. I will explain that to you when you are older. Besides, now that we are no longer in game, none of us have those powers anymore.”

He deflates right away. I knew he would take that badly, and he is already sulking. I go back a couple of steps in the story to explain some background.

“There was another power that your mother had, and it can be used in game and out of game, given the right conditions. These powers are produced by the horrorterrors.”

Sero stares at me, wide eyed. He has watched documentaries on the horrorterrors. He does not know the powers they produce, though. To say he is scared of the horrorterrors is an understatement. I take a sharp breath, and try to endure as the depression that I have been hiding for so long weighs heavy on my chest. I am ready to weep and wail, yet I must soldier on – for Sero. He notices I am visibly upset now. He lifts his hands in a way that seems like he is going to tug at my clothes again. He is silent as he waits for me to continue or to stop.

I carry on.

I begin to describe to him what happened to her. She did not deal with her GrimDark, technically speaking. She was stabbed before she could emotionally reconcile things within herself. We – or at least I – did not think it would ever appear again. That is, until I gradually started noticing the little things. A year after Sero was born I noticed her speech becoming more difficult to understand occasionally. It would have awkward tones to it. She would clear her voice, and it would be gone, yet it happened more and more frequently as the months went on. Her skin started to turn a pale grey like her son’s; however, Sero was born with it. She was not. Asking her about it would lead to her laughing and saying there was nothing to worry about. Her fuse no longer seemed to blow – like she was not upset anymore, ever. I knew this was not true. I worried, and worried, and worried. I knew what was going on. I was not stupid. I was just afraid to accept it.

And then, seven years ago, the day came.

It was a sunny day with cumulous clouds everywhere. It was the best kind of day for a picnic in the park. She and I had left the house to go for the aforementioned picnic, leaving Sero with a baby sitter. The park is beautiful, really. There is a huge plain toward the end of it that goes on as far as the eye could see. We were invited to the park by all the other trolls and kids for our yearly anniversary meet up. There was merriment – a perfect combination of sarcasm and irony that made everyone happy. That is, until we looked up.

We saw the meteors.

We all knew what it meant right away – the game was attempting to restart itself. However, none of us had the ability to deal with meteors of this magnitude. Our strife specibi did not do any damage no matter how hard we tried. I saw imps from the distance and warned everyone. Sollux, Aradia, and Feferi were the first three to be badly injured by them. Eridan almost died. They were way too strong for regular imps. The sky started to turn dark – darker than the night sky – practically pure black. Gray clouds contrasted against the sky and the meteors. I felt a strange aura coming from my side. Turning my gaze to where I thought the source was, and I stopped in my tracks.

It was her.

Her skin was as gray as the clouds above us. There was a visible, white, aura coming from her person. She was floating off the ground –she had made the final transition into GrimDark. That was when I started to realize she was not going to come back from the GrimDark – she must have known about this somehow. It was a flawless transition, like she had accepted her fate already. The horrorterrors must have told her, telling her she was the only one who could save us with as little injury and deaths as possible. That is the only way that she would have accepted becoming GrimDark again – if it was for the greater good. Needless to say, she destroyed the meteor and the imps without any difficulty. When she floated back towards us all, she gave a halfhearted smile as she glanced around. When her gaze finally set upon me, it dawned on me. She was leaving. She was going to the horrorterrors.

She set herself upon the ground, and walked toward me. The tears were already streaming down my face. I tried not to let out a sound. It seemed like her walk toward me lasted an eternity. The moment was slow, more torturous, and agonizing than anyone can describe. She reached me eventually, and simply stood in front of me for a long time. From how close she was, her aura was blinding. I went through great effort to keep my eyes open – to take in every moment I had left with her. She smiled – an honest, true smile – and put her arms around my midriff. Her embrace was gentle, like she was trying to comfort me. I put my arms around her and squeezed as tightly as possible. I tried to beg. I tried to plead with her not to go, for her to stay there in my arms. All she did was nuzzle into me, kiss me on the cheek, and say something in eldritch. I felt it was something akin to “I love you” or “I am going to miss you”, but before I could figure it out, she was out of my arms and floating far, far away. I sobbed as I screamed “Rose” over and over. My protein chute was killing me – I did not care. I fell to my knees as the sky turned back to normal.

She was gone.

It is a while before I realize I stopped talking, and that I was holding Sero for dear life as I was cradling him. It was another moment when I realized my protein chute was scratchy. I must have been saying her name out loud. His little arms are around me, and my shoulder is wet with what has to be his tears and snot. I can feel the tears streaming on my face, and the mucus still in my nose. I take what seems like an eon to calm down. Eventually, Sero moves his head off my shoulder.

“Father…?”

I look down at him. I am terribly sorry that I had this kind of break down in front of him. He sniffles a bit before he attempts to speak again. His voice cracks when he gets the words out of his mouth.

“Mother is a hero.”

I pause, trying to figure out what to say. I kiss Sero on the top of his head, rubbing his back to try to help him calm down as well – his heart is thundering like a storm against me, though he is trying to hide that fact.

“Yes. She is.”

I turn my line of sight to the vault. He has never seen his mother. When we are both settled enough to deal with seeing her picture, I ask him a question.

“Would you like to see her?”

Sero pauses like I did moments ago. He gives a subtle nod, and climbs off to allow me to stand. I stretch when I get up, my limbs aching from sitting for so long and the energy I have spent. I move to where my vault is, touching the cold steel of the combination lock. His stare feels like it is making holes in my spinal erector. I open the lock easily. There is only one framed picture in there – it is the one I have of Sero, Rose, and me. I bring it over to him, crouching to his level, letting him hold one side of the frame while I hold the other. He stares at it for a long time, as if he were trying to take in every detail.

“Mother is a beautiful lady, too.”

I smile at him, but he does not see it. He is concentrating on the picture still. I ruffle his hair slightly to grab his attention.

“Time for bed, Sero.”

He complies, moving toward the door. This is unlike every other night – he tends to fight to stay up. I suppose this is his way of trying not to upset me. I put the picture on my desk, and sit back down in my chair. Sero turns the knob gradually, causing the door to creak when it is opening.

“Father?”

“Yes, Sero?”

“I love you.”

He has never said that to me without me saying it first. My love for him knows no bounds. I know I coddle him and spoil him – that I show way too much affection to the point of embarrassment for him. I cannot help it, though. I would do anything for him. He is my child, and he is hers as well.

“I love you too. I will be there to tuck you in as soon as possible.”

With that being said, he smiles and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I grab the picture of all of us on my desk, moving it closer to me. I suppose I can place this on my desk permanently now. I can feel myself tearing up again. I wonder if she could see us from where she is. Sometimes, I look at the night sky and hope she is up there somewhere watching us. A tear runs down my face, dropping onto the frame with a plop. I stare at the picture for a while. Soon, it seems my tear ducts have lost the capability of making tears.

The designs are spread out all over my desk still. I do not feel like I can work on them now. I ponder how she would look in each outfit. I used to have her model for me in here all the time, and she would help me come up with ideas whenever I was stuck. It is my hope beyond all hope that she will come back. I know she will not, but I cannot help it. I will continually wait for Rose to come through the door of my hobby block like she used to – asking what she will model today, and smiling that beautiful smile right before she leans in to kiss me. There is not a single doubt in my think pan that I will wait for her every day. Faithfully, and loyally –

I will wait.


End file.
